


Uprising

by dontleaveportland



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF Stiles, Dark Derek, Dark Derek Hale, Dark Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Dark Magic, Dark Stiles, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontleaveportland/pseuds/dontleaveportland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski’s first step into the forest preserve of Beacon Hills was met with a mighty roar from deep within it. Stiles pushed every ounce of his rage and venom into the air – he forced the thunder to roll above the preserve, sky darkening and air crackling with electricity. This was his response to the alpha. He sought retribution, preferably with extreme and total malice.</p><p>“Derek Hale!” Stiles yelled. Thunder rolled with his voice, carrying his yell to the alpha.</p><p>Or that time Dark!Stiles unleashed on Beacon Hills and began a national war. #AllInADayFolks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uprising

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened... If you like this work, check out my other writings! If you're prone to the dark and twisted especially, you might like my 'Playlist: Beacon Hills (A Horror Mystery)'.
> 
> Check out Mother Mother's 'The Sticks' if you're seeking some background music to set the text's mood: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqE_30fTmMU

Stiles Stilinski’s first step into the forest preserve of Beacon Hills was met with a mighty roar from deep within it.

It was the roar of the alpha werewolf that claimed dominion over the area, as well as the man Stiles currently sought: Derek Hale.

Stiles pushed every ounce of his rage and venom into the air – he forced the thunder to roll above the preserve, sky darkening and air crackling with electricity.

This was his response to the alpha. He sought retribution, preferably with extreme and total malice.

At nineteen years old, Stiles stood as Beacon’s sole emissary, a title he had gained at only thirteen years old. Beacon had been without an emissary for almost a century up until that time.

Emissaries had become something of a rare breed in the last two hundred years, usually forced to spend their time in high-profile areas – where either supernatural forces or hunters seemed to be gaining large amounts of power. The ten currently known to exist spent almost everyday preventing war for the nation.

Stiles probably never would have discovered his own magic had it not been for Peter Hale – an alpha werewolf that had gone rabid and attacked both Stiles and his mother, Claudia, almost six years ago.

Fueled by the anger of having lost most of his family (save one nephew, Derek, and two nieces, Laura and Cora) in an attack by the Argent hunter clan, Peter had attempted to start an uprising by killing the family of the region’s protector, Sheriff John Stilinski.

With a single thought, Stiles had lit the alpha on fire. Unfortunately, that single thought had taken several minutes of intense focus, wherein Stiles had tried to fight off the rising panic attack after having watched his own mother die in front of him.

That was the day that Stiles swore indifference to both supernatural forces and hunters. While every emissary owed a duty to maintain balance between both groups, each emissary was also usually partial to one side more so than the other, allowing small wins for that side from time to time.

Stiles swore to never play favors for either side – the Argents and their blood thirst were just as much to blame as the Hales for his mother’s death, and neither side would win anything while Stiles stood watch over Beacon Hills.

And neither side had won anything – not a single battle – since Stiles took on the role of emissary. The two groups had remained in a six year stalemate, no matter how many alliances and tricks they tried to bring into the war.

But today, Stiles had chosen a side to favor.

Stiles had chosen a side, because the other side remained responsible for Beacon Hills’ latest death: John Stilinski.

Stiles walked into the clearing at the heart of the forest preserve. At least thirty pairs of blue and gold eyes scrutinized his every step. One pair of deep red eyes peered back at him across the clearing.

“Derek Hale!” Stiles yelled. Thunder rolled with his voice, carrying his yell to the alpha.

A blonde beta roared at Stiles from his right, running toward him with claws unsheathed.

Before the beta – Erica he thought her name was – reached him, Stiles tossed the beta back into the group of werewolves with a fierce wind.

Another roar sounded from his left, and Stiles watched as a young beta with scruffy hair and a crooked jaw ran forward. Stiles definitely knew this beta’s name to be Scott.

“Enough,” Stiles said, cutting the path off in front of him with several strikes of lightning, also throwing the beta back with the heat and power of the electricity.

“Move,” Stiles said to the group of werewolves standing guard in front of the alpha.

The group reluctantly parted in the middle, creating a tunnel that allowed Stiles to see the alpha lounging lazily on a stone throne at the end.

Stiles stepped into the part, thunder rolling with his every step. Stiles kept his head held high despite the peering eyes.

Stiles forced the wind to rip through the clearing, a reminder to the group that the outnumbered party was not the prey in this situation.

It seemed to take ages to reach the end of the tunnel.

“Alpha Derek Hale,” Stiles yelled over the roaring wind, “I accept the mating alliance you proposed to me two springs ago.”

The alpha sat up straight in his throne, eyes burning fiercely. It was the first time that the alpha appeared interested in his surroundings since Stiles had stepped into the clearing.

His crimson gaze quickly assessed Stiles up and down, mouth twisting into a delighted smirk.

Lightning struck the clearing again.

“With one condition,” Stiles yelled.

The alpha arched an eyebrow in question.

“I seek vengeance for my father,” Stiles yelled, “And the Hale pack accepts full responsibility for the war that will follow. With an emissary by its side. Our nation will never be the same, for better or worse.”

The alpha displayed a brilliant white smile. If it weren’t for the fangs, it would have been almost beautiful. Instead it was gruesome. Terrifying.

The alpha nodded his head and stood up from the throne. He approached Stiles.

Stiles felt himself pulled into the alpha, a clawed hand clasped around the back of his neck. His lips met the alpha’s, fangs scratching his skin. A rough tongue licked into Stiles’s mouth.

Lightning and thunder seemed to light the air on fire.

Stiles turned back to the clearing, facing the members of the Hale pack.

“Tonight,” Stiles yelled, eyes dark as coal, “The Argent clan dies.”

At least thirty howls screamed into the night, joining the lightning and thunder in the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the short read. If you liked it, let me know!


End file.
